Penitence
by Liz Beth Rae
Summary: Scorpius gets tangled in a new fringe movement. An unbreakable vow, a prophecy, a mysterious stone, and painful lessons of loyalty fill his, Rose, and Albus' final year at Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A fire crackled softly beneath the marble mantelpiece of the Malfoy's dining room. Forks and knives clinked softly as the family ate over the long oak table. The full meal of turkey and roast potatoes was supposed to be a warm send off for Scorpius the night before term began, but in truth, all it did was make him terribly sleepy. The young Scorpius sat with his elbow on the table, head in his hand, observing the river of gravy slowly flooding his carrots. Narcissa and Lucius sat at either head of the table in high-backed armchairs. Time had been largely kind to Narcissa, whose only noticeable changes were that from blonde to pearly white hair and perhaps a few more lines around her blue eyes. The same could not be said for Lucius who had developed a heavy limp and stiffness over the years that made his walking stick, once for pompous display, now actually necessary.

Draco and Astoria ate side by side, their backs to the fire. His hair was thinning around the crown and his face and his cheeks had developed faint lines but his wife showed no hints of being nearly 40 years old. Not a single gray hair existed in her dark brown locks nor a single wrinkle among her freckled face. The two of them were staring directly into their plates and had been for the first ten minutes of the dinner. The atmosphere was as stuffy as the seat cushions and Scorpius found the heat from the fire almost as stifling as his grandparents' pointed glowers.

"Scorpius, take your elbow off the table," ordered Lucius curtly as he cut himself another piece of turkey. "A soon to be N.E.W.T. student and you can't even remember your manners? Come now."

Another silence fell across the room. Scorpius rubbed his face to wake up even a little, but the thickness of the air seemed to cling to him, smothering. He hated visiting his grandparents. They were always bickering about politics, but always in the most passive-aggressive way imaginable. He thought to himself how strange it was that nothing had yet happened at dinner, but before he could even complete the thought, his father broke the silence.

"Got wind of something at the Ministry today; there's a new movement gathering steam." There was a pause in which Draco dabbed his mouth with a napkin and Lucius made a noise of affirmation.

"Yes, I read something in the _Daily Prophet_ recently," Lucius began. "I'll see if I can't get you the article, Narcissa. It's quite fascinating. '_The Progressive Front' _they're calling themselves. Of course, they'll never get far enough with the tactics they're using… formal protests and petitions and the like. '_Palatable to the masses_' and other such nonsense."

He scoffed before taking a sip from his glass.

"What are they protesting?" Scorpius inquired.

Astoria looked up from her plate and fixed her green eyes on her son. "They want the wizarding community to come out of hiding and live among Muggles freely."

"Not far enough, in my opinion," muttered Lucius.

"Lucius!" Narcissa barked, glaring at him. "Enough. We're all aware our _opinion_."

"Well, why not?" Scorpius added, brandishing his fork. "It's not as if they're killing anybody."

"Don't point at your grandmother," Draco snapped.

Scorpius set his fork down and continued, "I just mean to say, why we should have to hide? Muggles will want to use magic yes, but everyone knows they can't so it wouldn't matter, would it? The parents of Muggle-borns let their children attend Hogwarts without blinking an eye—why do we have to hide it from everyone else?"

"You don't understand the implications," Narcissa growled through pursed lips, cutting a small piece of turkey into smaller and smaller pieces.

"Give the boy a chance, Narcissa," drawled Lucius. "If he's studying to be a historian, he probably is well aware of the implications."

"Absolutely not. I won't have this nonsense at the table. Scorpius, eat your supper."

"But—"

"Listen to your grandmother," Astoria ordered.

Scorpius tried very hard not to roll his eyes and began to eat again. He knew the stories, for what little his family wanted to talk about those times. It was difficult to miss that his grandfather was highly prejudiced and would love to see Muggles wiped out entirely, though he never managed to say exactly what he thought due to Narcissa's prompt scolding. His father never stood up to Lucius but once when Lucius had uttered '_Mudblood_', many years ago, Draco had tersely asked his father '_not to use such vulgarity at the dinner table in front of my son.'_ Astoria had always been largely quiet on political matters but the only family member who was not horrified when Scorpius had stepped off the Hogwarts Express after his first year with Rose Weasley and Albus Potter on either side of him.

His mind wandered to them as the rest of his family began discussing whether the peacocks were being properly fed. He missed Rose and Albus quite a bit. They never got to visit very often during the summer months because of all the family tension, but after learning to apparate everything had been made a little easier. They visited Rose's house most and he liked Rose's mother quite a lot. Hermione was the only one of the four parents who truthfully made an effort to be kind to him and get to know him. Scorpius knew the stories; he knew his father had made her life hell in school and that she was a Muggle-born who was persecuted and captured and tortured in his very own grandparents' drawing room. Over seven years of History of Magic courses and being the best friend of Albus and Rose, he had learned quite a bit of what had happened even if his parents never spoke of it. And even after all that had happened, Hermione Granger would sit with Rose and Albus and Scorpius over tea and talk about why she hadn't changed her last name, why she was proud to be a Muggle-born, and how exactly a remote control was different than a wand. He admired her kindness and her knowledge. Both of these traits were just as evident in her children, especially Rose.

He was expecting her return of his owl, Abraxas, soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Look, I know you think the goblin rebellions of 1715 were just a rehash of the same ideals from 1612 but what you don't understand, Rose, is that _this _time they wanted more money and power out of the deal. I'm all for equality, surely, but how on earth could you expect them to be given wands when without them they were so vicious?"

Rose glared at Scorpius from the other side of the train's compartment, her arms crossed indignantly and her brown hair frazzled from clutching it in frustration. Albus was sitting next to Rose and Nina Longbottom was on Scorpius' left by the window. The two of them were playing a very tense game of Exploding Snap and were growing evermore weary of the political debates going on beside them. Over the years, one would think they had gotten used to it. But as the knowledge base for Scorpius and Rose grew, the debates only became more and more heated.

"Excuse me for being an idealist," Rose snapped. "If wizards are so great they would have allowed less 'vicious' creatures of near-human intelligence the right to wands as well, but you don't see _that _happening, do you?"

"Idealism is fantastic but can never be implemented without a practical aspect, Rosie. Don't pretend you don't know that," Scorpius rebutted. He gave a sly grin out of the corner of his mouth. His composure was completely intact and he could see he'd hit a soft spot for Rose.

"_Don't_ patronize me."

"You know I'm right."

"Will you just—"

A pop and a cloud of ash suddenly filled the compartment and the four of them began coughing uncontrollably. Abraxas the owl hooted fearfully and Albus' cat Faye hissed in her wicker cage.

"Will you two cut it out?" Albus spluttered, waving his wand to collect the dust around the compartment. "I thought you would have discussed all there could possibly be to discuss given the size of those letters this summer."

"That's the great thing about history, Al. It's all political, and there are more than 4000 years of history to cover."

Albus rolled his eyes and made a face at Nina, who giggled. She was blonde and brown-eyed who generally observed the trio quietly. They had met as first years and though her voice was often drowned out by the more vocal Rose or condescension of Scorpius, she had never failed to tag along on nighttime shenanigans or get a signature from her father to let the four of them into the restricted section of the library. This was in some ways counterproductive to her and Albus' constant fight to get Rose and Scorpius to calm down, because the information within the books was of the more controversial sort.

As Albus cast the ash out the window of the train, Rose and Scorpius shared quick sheepish grins and pulled out a book each. Burying themselves behind the covers was the most effective way to avoid arguing for now and the best way to fortify their arsenals for the next debate. No matter how frustrated they would get with each other, they knew it was all in good fun so long as they didn't bring up any topics that hit too close to home.

\\*/

The Slytherin common room was still as dark and dank as it had ever been. Scorpius was in an armchair late that night on the last chapter of his book. He hated reading in the Slytherin common room because the lantern lighting was hardly ideal and made his eyes weary. It was quite late and the other students had all gone up to bed before classes the next day. As he turned the page of his book, however, he heard footsteps coming from one of the hallways that lead to the dormitories. He closed the novel with a finger pressed between the pages and peered around the edge of his high-backed armchair. Ewan Pritchard and Julian Pucey, two Slytherin boys in Scorpius' year, were murmuring to each other as they entered the common room. They were tall and thin, both with brown hair and a consistently sour look on their faces.

"Cecilia should be down soon," Julian whispered. Cecilia Nott was a 7th year Slytherin as well, admired for her beauty but constantly avoided for her hostility. "She mentioned she'd found a couple more signatures and that brings our total up to about ten students at Hogwarts. And that's just the first day."

The two of them stopped suddenly when they spotted Scorpius in his chair.

"Malfoy," Pritchard stated by means of greeting.

"Pleased to see you as well," Scorpius replied coolly, standing up from his chair and turning to face them. Scorpius generally did not get along with his fellow Slytherins, especially Pritchard and Pucey, who freely used the word _Mudblood_ and who never seemed to understand why Scorpius would hang around with the Weasley family. They thought he was soft and he thought they were barbaric, so all in all they kept their distance.

There were a few tense moments before Pucey spoke. "Fancy joining our meeting?"

Pritchard and Scorpius both looked at him as though he'd gone mad.

"We can't trust _him_!" hissed Pritchard, giving his friend a swift elbow to the rib.

"What's the meeting for?" Scorpius interjected, folding his arms and glowering at the pair of them.

"You heard about The Progressive Front?" Pucey asked while Pritchard threw his arms up in disgust.

"I've read the newspapers."

"Do you agree with our cause?"

"Of course he doesn't," spat Pritchard, sitting in a chair looking disagreeable as ever. "He hangs around those Potter and Weasley progeny who think everything is sunshine and rainbows all the time. _Disgusting_."

"You don't know what I think," Scorpius replied, unperturbed.

Pucey threw the other boy a knowing look.

Pritchard glowered at Scorpius before saying, "Listen, Malfoy. There's a lot at stake here. If you're in, we have to know you're in 100%."

"I thought you were just putting together formal protests and petitions and other half-hearted childish business. That doesn't sound like a lot is at stake." The words left his mouth, sharp and bitter, before Scorpius even knew he remembered them.

The boys glanced at each other before Pucey turned to Scorpius.

"There's a meeting in the Hogshead the first Hogsmeade weekend. You can find out more then if you're still inclined."

"But if you don't mind, we'd like a little privacy now," said Pritchard. "Things to discuss."

Scorpius gave a curt nod and marched down the corridor leading to his bedroom. He pushed open the heavy oak door to the 7th year boys' dorm. The ceilings of all the bedrooms were enchanted to show the green water of the lake above. He hated the musty smell of the humid stone walls, but the fire in the middle of the room at least kept them warm. Pritchard and Pucey's beds were empty, and the remaining two boys, Joseph Coulthard and Romulus Bainbridge, were fast asleep. Scorpius changed clothes and set his book on his nightstand before climbing under his green, woolen covers. His mind began racing at once. _The Progressive Front_. It had arrived at Hogwarts and there was a small student movement underway. _A small student movement that included Pucey and Pritchard_, he reminded himself. They had big plans, whatever they were, and they wanted Muggles and the wizarding world to live among each other peaceably with full disclosure.

As the warmth of sleep started to fill his mind, he made a final mental note before drifting off: _Talk to Rose._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Rose pulled out the crinkled note she'd left in her pocket around lunch time. It was an invitation from Hagrid asking her if she, Albus, Nina, and Scorpius would like to join him for tea the approaching Friday. She smiled fondly down at the familiar scrawl and set it on the library desk beside her stack of parchment and books. N.E.W.T. year had turned out to be just as homework intensive as she had expected. Rose wanted desperately to go into law and was taking a full course load in order to achieve it. Scorpius was supposed to be joining her soon to work on a 14 inch scroll for History of Magic about the original assembly that designated and condemned the three unforgiveable curses. Only three days of classes had passed but they were already overwhelmed. She hadn't seen Albus since Defense Against the Dark Arts the previous afternoon and she hadn't seen Nina since Ancient Runes that morning.

"How far have you gotten?" came a sudden voice from behind her. Rose didn't even blink as Scorpius flopped into the chair beside her and hung his book bag across the back of it.

"About five inches…" she replied, her face still pressed to the parchment. "What do you think about Horace Bogwald throwing out _Frusta Intus _from the list of unforgiveables?"

"I believe there's a counter curse, so even if the intent to disembowel your opponent is there, Mr. Bogwald was right. It shouldn't have made the cut."

"True, but I don't know if I agree with the classification the assembly ended up choosing…"

"Well, if you just look at intent you fall into a slippery-slope argument and soon you'll have 15-year-olds sent to Azkaban for setting Bat-Bogey hexes on their ex-boyfriends…"

Rose blushed furiously and she could feel her ears growing hot. Two years ago she'd been dating a Ravenclaw by the name of Charles Thomas and when he broke up with her over Quidditch schedules she'd become a little overzealous. A week's worth of detention polishing Quidditch trophies still marked the most exasperating punishment ever served to Rose Weasley, and there had been many. She could feel Scorpius grinning stupidly beside her and she began writing more forcefully to ease her temper.

"It was his own fault he didn't know the counter curse," she muttered hotly. She let out an angry huff when her quill ripped a hole in the parchment.

Scorpius laughed aloud and was hushed viciously by Madame Pince. He choked down his chuckles at once, eyeing the ancient librarian from the corner of his eye before peering in closer at Rose's scribbles. Soon his face was right next to the parchment and Rose felt a wave of annoyance swell in her chest. She flicked her quill tip towards his face and a few specks of ink landed on his pale cheeks.

"Write your own essay, Scorpius."

He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and folded his hands behind his head with that ridiculous smirk.

"Whatever you say, but they were classified in 1717, not 1716."

"You're infuriating."

"Ah, but you keep me around."

Rose sighed and went back to work. There was a long pause where nothing was heard but the scratching of her quill. After a while, she finally looked up from her parchment and saw that Scorpius was not actually looking at her. He was still leaning back in his chair, two legs off the ground, but he was peering off into the distance, his eyes unfocused as if a sobering thought had suddenly struck him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly, setting her quill down.

He let the chair drop to all fours and glanced at her. With a sigh he leaned forward, set his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

She felt her stomach drop and a blush rise in her cheeks again. She wasn't quite sure what she expected. Perhaps, '_Would you like to be my girlfriend?' _or better '_I find your political intensity highly attractive.' _These thoughts would occasionally pop into her head over the past year and a half and generally she tried to squelch them. There was school to worry about, after all. Always the next exam, the next quiz, the next book to worry about and she knew a relationship would get in the way of her dreams of wizarding law. Plus, her father had already had a heart attack when discovering her and Scorpius were merely friends. Imagine the disaster if he found out they were dating.

"Yes?" Rose prodded, trying to sound nonplussed, turning to him with her hands folded over one crossed knee.

"I talked to Pritchard and Pucey recently."

Rose slowly released the breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Oh?" she replied, trying to sound more surprised than disappointed.

"Have you heard anything about _The Progressive Front_?"

Her jaw dropped, her face darkened, and she immediately turned back to her essay. "Yes, I have." She lifted her quill as if to write something but nothing came to her through the haze of sudden anger. The Progressive Front had been ready dinner conversation that summer as her mother and father swapped news from the Ministry.

"What do you think of it?"

"I think it's a terrible thing hidden under a clever guise of equality."

"Why?"

She turned viciously to him. "You _can't_ be serious."

"I thought you of all people would support its mission."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean '_you of all people'_? Because my mother's Muggle-born? Scorpius, that's how I know it's a terrible idea."

He rubbed his face furiously and ran his hand through his hair. With a sigh, he looked up at her with those steadfast grey eyes and she could see he was serious.

"I thought that maybe you'd want your grandparents to be able to share the true news about you and Hugo, about your mum. For them to live in a world where they don't have to hide what their family really is. It's not like anyone's been killed or tortured."

"Yet!"

"_Shh!"_ spat Madame Pince, staring at them from her desk.

Rose shot the woman a pointed glower before looking back to Scorpius.

"You're _wrong_."

"How can you not want this?"

"Muggles and Wizards living together like one big happy family all the time?" she hissed. "You can't see through that? Do think that's really what Prichard and Pucey are after? Who's the idealist now, Scorpius?"

With that, she threw her things together and turned to leave.

Finally Rose said, "Hagrid wants tea on Friday. I suggest you come if you can get your priorities back in order."

She then stomped out, leaving Scorpius speechless in his seat.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Nina, Albus, and Rose were all seated in Hagrid's warm and cozy hut. Nina and Albus were beside each other at Hagrid's table sipping their tea, eyes glazed over with tiredness. The first week of classes had entirely worn them out. As Albus was Quidditch captain, he had been preparing practice sessions on top of all the work he was putting into his classes. Nina had been down at the hut since mid-afternoon, deworming the garden and searching for more interesting magical fauna. Nina and Hagrid had a very special relationship revolving around her affinity for bizarre creatures. Neville and Hannah Longbottom and always encouraged her hobby provided that nothing with more than two legs followed her into the house.

Hagrid was starting to show age; his scraggly beard glistened with grey and the lines around his black eyes were significantly more pronounced than years passed. His game-keeping abilities were more limited due to a stiff shoulder for which he took a daily potion. An enormous, gray Irish wolfhound lay on the warm hearth before the fire. Hagrid had adopted Brutus as a puppy several years after Fang passed away. Brutus proved a wonderful asset, as he would guard the forest's edge at night and hunt any garden pests.

"Where's Scorpius?" Hagrid asked, pulling a tray of rock cakes from the oven. "Ne'er thought he'd want to miss out on the last firs' tea o' the school year."

Rose cleared her throat quietly and Albus glanced her way. She was in Hagrid's armchair, her teacup balanced on the arm and a book open on her knee. For the past couple of days, Albus had noticed she was particularly cantankerous. Yet no matter how much he and Nina prodded, she refused to tell them what was bothering her. Nina shared a dormitory with Rose and managed to discern it had to do with Scorpius. His absence affirmed this, but Albus had spoken to him in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Scorpius had said he would be down for tea as usual.

"What happened between you two?" Nina asked exasperatedly, voicing exactly the question on Albus' mind.

With a frustrated groan, Rose closed her book and set her chin in her hand. "Albus, you've heard about The Progressive Front, I'm sure."

He nodded. "Dad and James would never stop talking about it. Dad in particular was really worried…" He looked to Hagrid for some sort of input.

Hagrid looked between the two of them, his brow furrowed, still holding his tray of rock cakes. "The Progressive Front, eh?" He let out a discontented grunt and set the tray on the table. "I've been keepin' up with some o' the stuff they've been writin' in the _Prophet._ An' what does Scorpius 'ave to do with 'em?"

"Nothing yet," Rose mumbled into her fingertips. "He asked me in the library what I thought and I told him it was a vile idea."

"An' yer right about that," replied Hagrid at once, pulling plates from the cupboard and setting them in front of Albus and Nina. "Yer parents didn't fight fer wizards to leave Muggles alone just to expose the entire wizard community. Voldemort's long gone, but there're still folks out there who'll never see Muggles as equals and gettin' rid of magical regulations, there's nothin' good that'll come of it. Nothin'."

"He's our best friend," Albus offered helpfully. Rose wouldn't meet his gaze. "He won't join up. He knows the stories, the history—he knows our parents. He wouldn't."

Rose grabbed her tea and let Hagrid take over the armchair. She took a seat at the table beside Albus, still looking troubled, and said, "I just don't understand why he'd even consider joining. He's ignoring facts and that's not at all like him."

"Think about it though, Rose," Nina said in her quiet voice. "Look at his family."

"He may come from scum," interjected Hagrid, "But the Malfoy's changed after the war. You know Scorpius' grandmother's responsible for yer dad still bein' alive, don't ya, Albus? And Scorpius is different. I knew when I firs' met 'im that 'e was different. Bein' yer friend right off the bat like he was, especially to you Rosie, I could tell. Naw, what you three 'ave to look at is this."

Hagrid cleared his throat, took a bite rock cake, and then continued. "Nina, your parents are well-known, respectable people. Yer father, fer one. I've told ya this already, but he became a great Gryffindor by the end of the second war and Voldemort would still be here without him. An' you, Albus, Quidditch captain like yer dad who destroyed the worst dark wizard of all time, Ginny Weasley fer a mother. An' you, Rose, yer parents are the great Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, and you went and tied yer mother's O.W.L. scores. An' what does Scorpius have to claim fer 'is own?"

Hagrid raised his eyebrows at the trio who responded with silence and guilty faces.

"He comes from a terrible family that did terrible things, made friends with the children o' great wizards, and now he's is in his last year at Hogwarts with nothing to show fer it other than his above average O.W.L. scores and you three fer friends—not a prefect, not on the Quidditch team, not even president of the Gobstones club. So o' course if somethin' like The Progressive Front comes along, he'll be interested. He wants to feel important, tha's all. I'm goin' to tell you, Rosie, somethin' I tol' yer mother a long time ago… Less arguin', more understanding. Got it?"

Rose blushed and nodded, taking a sip of her tea.

Hagrid was chuckling in his seat when suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. Brutus jumped up from the fireplace and bounded in two quick leaps to the door. The handle turned and Scorpius peered in around the wooden frame.

"Sorry I'm late," he said sheepishly, patting Brutus on the head and closing the door behind him. "I had to finish an essay…There any of your rock cakes left, Hagrid?"

He took a seat next to Rose and grinned shyly at her. She smiled back.

The five of them talked long into the night, swapping tales of the summer and hopes for the year. Hagrid tried only halfheartedly to convince them not to put an engorged flobberworm in the entrance hall, but they spent a good twenty minutes discussing how to go about it in the most anonymous way possible with the highest likelihood of making life difficult for the castle's ill-tempered caretaker, Madame Munditia. When they finally gave their farewells, only the stars remained to light up the grounds. The four of them made their way up the hill trying to suppress boisterous laughs as they crossed into the entrance hall, but a sudden jingle of chains announced an unwanted presence.

"Hide," hissed Scorpius, stopping abruptly and startling the other three.

They quickly and silently moved backwards into the nearest broom cupboard. The ghost of Argus Filch was near. After his precious cat died, he'd never quite been the same. Most felt he'd simply lost the will to live, while others think Peeves the Poltergeist put too much strain his old heart. He'd died years ago, bent over on his stool, still holding the chains he'd spent the night oiling. He now roamed the castle halls, clanking his chains and murmuring to himself, "_Students out of bed_…" The chains served well for scaring off Peeves who was unwilling to see if the chain-bearer was The Bloody Baron or Filch. Catching students and giving them detention was his only mission in the afterlife, since he was incapable of interacting with physical matter and therefore incapable of cleaning the school.

The four of them tried with great difficulty to steady their breathing as they heard Filch's voice draw nearer and the clanking chains grow louder.

"_Students out of bed… _I heard the doors! I'll 'ang you by your thumbs, I will!" he called, his voice echoing in the Entrance Hall.

Albus choked on a giggle and Nina elbowed him harshly in the ribs. He let out an involuntary splutter, and before he could recuperate, the transparent white, ethereal face of Argus Filch appeared in the broom cupboard with them all. He held up the ghostly chains in front of their faces and spat, "_Detention_! Not even a week and I've got you all… just like your parents, a bunch of mischief-making hooligans! The Headmistress will hear about this! _To bed!_"

Hearts pounding, the four of them poured out of the cupboard and Filch stood there, much less amusing in death than he had been in life. He glowered at Scorpius who tipped an invisible hat and marched off for the Slytherin dungeons. Filch then escorted the three Gryffindors all the way to the tower, through The Fat Lady's portrait hole, and up the dormitory stairs, making a terrible racket all the while.


End file.
